


A Human Shaped Hidy-Hole

by IDontLikePansStopAsking



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, Angst with Ambiguous Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, trans liquid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 20:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDontLikePansStopAsking/pseuds/IDontLikePansStopAsking





	A Human Shaped Hidy-Hole

Eli was happy.

For once in his life he was genuinely happy, a warmth spreading from every part of his body. It started at the fingertips brushing through Tretij's hair, soaring down to his abdomen which the redhead laid atop of, and tingling its way all the way down to the tips on his toes, where their legs tangled together.

He placed another kiss to Tretij's head. His face tingled.

Atop of him his best friend- _boyfriend, _now, was asleep. He had finally, after years and years, mustered the courage to ask him out. And he was happy.

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face and for once, he slept peacefully without Tretij interrupting.

When he woke up he was gone. Tretij was gone. Not a trace left but memories.

It took him a second to realize he was gone.

He felt ready to throw up.

A deep freeze of just about every negative emotion you can think of swirled inside of him. From the finger tips laying on the bed where Tretij sat when he told him he loved him, swirling down to his abdomen where he could still feel Tretij's warmth if he focused, down to his toes, where a single reminder laid.

He got up on shaky legs. He absently considered trying to find Tretij, but his mind was empty.

He was alone.

He stayed at that motel for a while. If Tretij were still there he would've just turned the clerk's mind away to Eli wouldn't have to pay. But he was gone.

He made money by pick-pocketing, even trying to do a little freelance soldier work. It didn't catch on much.

A deep, dark, looming cloud of self-hate followed him wherever he went.

Finally he joined the British Special Air Service. He was a bit impressed he managed to get in. He was barely eighteen.

For once he almost thought he had a place again.

Almost.

There was always something off, when he talked to the other soldiers. An undertone to their voice and attitude that he couldn't quite place.

Jealousy.

They were jealous of him.

He could laugh.

He didn't.

That's what he spent his time in Iraq thinking about. He had nothing better to dwell on, unless he wanted to linger on the pain radiating from his broken legs or the beg- the plead, for anyone to care at all.

There had been people that were there with him, when it all started. He still remembered how it went down.

He didn't know Arabic at the time. They were all speaking- he knew they were, but he didn't understand. They had taken his clothes- his dignity. Showed his _incorrect _body to the world.

They all addressed him as a girl. He never bothered to correct them.

Slowly, one by one, the other prisoners were picked off. He couldn't help but notice the males were the ones spared least.

He didn't think much of it until they started using him too.

All of the prisoners were picked off, one by one. He couldn't tell if it was because they were killed or rescued.

He was the only one left in the last year. Or year and a half. He couldn't tell. Time seemed to go on forever and yet so quickly as the same time.

He was so thin. You could count his ribs. It reminded him of Tretij. He already didn't look down at his chest much- it was too much of a reminder- but now he didn't at all.

He was starving.

He spent most of the day sleeping. He spent the night being beaten, among other things.

He hated it.

He hated it with every part of his body.

He was barely conscious when they rescued them.

Of course they were American. Why would the British care?

He woke up in a veteran's hospital. Someone was holding his hand.

"Tretij..."

His voice was weak. So very frail...

"Mantis, now."

Tretij had changed. His hair was gone, and he was somehow thinner.

He felt hot a cold all over.


End file.
